


Like Coming Home

by ShrimpZilla



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Depression, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:00:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2676497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShrimpZilla/pseuds/ShrimpZilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke sneaks off to aid the Inquisition and Anders deals with being left alone with her mabari.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> written for the dragon age kink meme

For the third time since starting Anders cut himself peeling the potato. With a sigh he tossed it, half peeled and mostly diminished in size, back onto the pile and stuck his finger in his mouth. He dropped the knife on the floor by the potatoes and walked over to his chair by the fire. He slumped into it, sucking the blood off of his injured thumb idly, and stared at his feet. The sound of the mabari’s heavy steps and sloppy breathing grew close and loud. Anders sighed again and slumped lower, his body mostly out of the chair as his legs stretched out across the floor. He saw the dog appear from who knew where—the beast had a busy schedule of getting filthy to keep, after all—and after giving Anders a look hopped up into the chair opposite him. Anders removed his thumb from his mouth.  
  
“You’re not supposed to sit there,” Anders chided with little force. The dog cocked his head, turned in a tight circle, and settled in Hawke’s seat. “She’s going to be mad at you when she comes back and finds her chair all stinky and out of shape.” The dog huffed a breath that seemed to say who cares, she’s the one that left. Anders rubbed his palms into his hot, tired eyes and thought—not for the first time—that it was crazy to attribute thoughts and speech to the animal. Hawke said it was smart, that it understood everything that was said. Hawke spoke to it as if it were a member of the family with a valid opinion on all matters. Hawke wasn’t here though, was she? Hawke had left without a word. Hawke had done the one thing she said she’d never do: abandon him.  
  
Why would she stay? This isn’t the life that she deserves. She should be living in her family mansion, surrounded by all the comforts she might desire, being loved by someone worthy of her. I’m a murderer and madman and she should have killed me back in Kirkwall. Maybe that’s why she left. Maybe she realized her mistake. Those people deserved justice too. I should have died there. I’m not meant to be alive.  
  
He shook his head and bit hard into his lip to clear his thoughts. Justice had gotten harder to live with since he and Hawke had been on the run. More often than not they weren’t of the same mind anymore. He craved justice for the events that had transpired but all Anders wanted was a life with Hawke. The spirit had meant for them to die to complete the circle of justice for the people they had killed in the Chantry. Hawke’s mercy, her compassion, her love had stayed her hand and saved his life but Justice wasn’t interested in redemption. He massaged his temples furiously, wishing for Hawke’s gentle touch against his skin and the sound of her voice and the warmth of her that kept him tethered to his humanity.   
  
He started at the feeling of paws on his knees, a wet nose pressed up against his forehead. Anders opened his eyes onto the face of the mabari looking at him with eyes that almost seemed to read concern. He moved his hands from his head to rub behind the dog’s ears lightly. “I’m all right,” he reassured. More for himself than for the dog he told himself. The dog’s stump of a tail wagged and he slobbered his tongue along the mage’s cheek. Anders frowned and shoved the beast off of his lap. “Ugh, do you even realize how badly you smell?” The dog barked in the affirmative. Or at least Anders thought it sounded like an affirmative. Well, really is just sounded like a bark but it couldn’t not know that it smelled so Anders took it to be affirmative. “Come on, then, I’m giving you a bath. That way when Hawke comes back she won’t run away again because of your stench,” Anders said while standing. The mabari angled its head inquisitively, its eyes shining in a sad questioning way. It whined. “Of course she’s coming back. What a stupid question.” He walked towards the door that lead outside, bending to grab their large basin for washing.   
  
She had to come back. Even if it was just to get her stupid dog. She had to.

 

\--  
  
“You can’t sit at the table,” Anders ordered though he found Hawke’s mabari seemed to conveniently lose its understanding of the human language whenever Anders was making a command. It barked happily and vaulted into the chair. “Can’t. Can not. You are not allowed,” he tried repeating though he knew it was no use. Hawke had spoiled the dog. It thought it was a person. Can I really blame her? It’s the only thing she has left from her home, the only member of her family still available to her. Father, brother, mother all dead. And Bethany maybe too now for all troubles with the Circles and war that he had in no small way started and now hid from like a coward while others died and—“Fine,” he said in a strained voice, closing his eyes against the wave of a migraine pressing down on him. “Sit where you like.”  
  
Anders got up and filled a bowl with the remains of the stew he had less than expertly crafted. It had been meant to be Hawke’s portion. He had wanted her to be able to eat the moment she got in. She would likely be hungry from being wherever she had been and doing whatever she had done. He felt the frown he hadn’t realized he had been wearing deepen, his stomach spin with worry and sadness. He couldn’t blame her for wanting to escape. He just wished she had said something. Let him know. He had thought everything was fine. He had thought they were, in some way, happy. The dog barked and Anders quickly wiped the tears that had built in his eyes.   
  
“Don’t snap at me, you monster. You’re lucky I’m even letting you have this. Dogs eating people food… Ridiculous.” He shook his head and laid the bowl on the place in front of the dog. It made a noise and without thinking Anders responded, “You’re welcome.” He reseated himself and placed his elbows on the table, holding his head in his hands and staring at nothing in particular. All right, so maybe he was staring at the door waiting for Hawke to silently or loudly—she only had two settings—appear in the frame. Grinning, he imagined, and eager to see them. Probably filthy from whatever she had run off to take care of. He’d give her what was left in his bowl since he hadn’t had much of an appetite lately and only cooked for the sake of something to do. They’d talk while she ate about everything she had done and seen and when it was his turn he would tell her all the things that had happened here. He desperately wanted to hear her voice, her laugh. It was so quiet with just him and the dog. “You better not try to hog her attention when she gets back,” Anders warned though he didn’t know why he even bothered. The dog looked up at him. “Don’t act so innocent. Every time she comes back from a job you’re glued to her side.” The dog sniffed. “Oh, don’t give me that. Knowing her first has nothing to do with it. You’re just a bad sport.”  
  
Maker, if she didn’t get back soon he didn’t know what he was going to do.

 

\--  
  
Anders opened his eyes but didn’t move. The bed was cold. Empty except for the small space that he had curled himself into. Hawke’s side was undisturbed. Still. He closed his eyes again and tried to fall back to sleep. He was so tired. His joints felt sore and overused, though he supposed that the real culprit was under use. He hadn’t gotten out of bed yesterday. Or the day before? He couldn’t remember. Everything was a long, dull blur. Just a string of empty days and nights.   
  
She was gone.  
  
She wasn’t coming back.  
  
His stomach tightened and he thought he might be sick. He felt a heavy, black emptiness in his chest. He had loved her, did love her so much. With everything he had. It wasn’t enough. He knew that. He had never been good enough for her. Liar. Murderer. Abomination. He wondered if maybe she had taken up Sebastian on his offer, gone to Starkhaven to be a queen. He buried his face into his pillow and cried into it, tears staining the already tear stained fabric.   
  
He heard scratching on the bedroom door. Not Hawke. The mabari. He tried to slip back asleep, ignore the call to get out of bed. The scratching continued. He heard a muffled whimper through the wood. Slowly, his body aching, he sat up. He stared at the room for a moment with eyes that felt too heavy. She had left so much behind. Was she really not coming back for any of it? Not for the dog? His heart hurt. He wondered what the dog felt.   
  
Anders stood and opened the door, looked down at the animal that sat their patiently. Its tail wagged hesitantly. “You’re probably hungry,” Anders reasoned. His voice sounded hoarse and broken. His mouth was dry and tasted dirty. “Sorry, old boy. I’ve been a terrible house mate.” He tried to smile and let the dog know things were okay. It was only a dog, after all. He walked onwards into the kitchen, the floor cold beneath his bare feet. He filled a bowl with water and placed it on the floor beside him as he got to work thoughtlessly preparing food for the dog. The dog sat next to him as he worked, close enough that he could feel the heat of its breath on his thigh. Absently he lowered a hand and rested it on the dog’s head. “I’ll be better. I promise,” he muttered. The dog tilted his head and licked Anders’ palm.   
  
When the food was done he placed it on the floor. He didn’t have the energy to pretend to eat. Doing this had practically drained him to exhaustion. He walked back to the bedroom and laid himself back onto the thin mattress that used to smell of him and Hawke and their love and now just smelled of his body and his depression. He closed his eyes, infinitely sad and alone and wishing more than anything that he would die but scared, terrified that if he did she would come back and he would have missed her. Coward.  
  
He heard the clacking of the dogs nails and then there was another presence in the bed. The mabari laid down on Hawke’s side, curling his body against Anders’. For warmth, the mage thought dully. It’s getting colder. He rolled onto his back and let the dog rest its head on his chest. He rubbed its ears and neck with one of his hands. “I’m sorry,” he offered. “I ruined everything.” The dog nuzzles its nose against his cheek, its breath hot and wet and rather smelly all in all. Anders couldn’t conjure the energy to care or push him away. “Maybe we’ll go for a walk later,” he said in an attempt at cheering up the dog. It seemed a nonsensical thought. Cheering up a dog. But Hawke—even if she was never coming back—would have wanted Bones to be happy. Anders could do that much at least.

 

\--  
  
Once he had started taking Bones for walks it became a little easier to become functional again. He was still sad, terribly and unwaveringly sad, but the crisp air and the sunshine and the eager excitement of the mabari in the woods soothed him. The more he convinced Bones that Hawke would be returning the more he began to believe it too. She wouldn’t just leave them. That wasn’t like Hawke. Something had come up. Something important. News from one of their friends that Hawke hadn’t wanted to burden him with. Or something that she thought was too dangerous for someone so wanted as Anders to partake in. He had searched for a letter, any form of evidence as to her disappearance when it first occurred and come up empty. But that didn’t mean anything. Only that Hawke hadn’t left it behind.   
  
Bones appeared from out of a bush, knocking into Anders’ legs hard enough to topple him over. The mage let out a startled sound and found himself covered not only in dirt and leaves but the mabari’s nose and breath as it checked him once over for serious injury. He pushed the snout away without any real anger. Once Bones was certain that Anders was unharmed he bounded around him, darting away in the direction he had come from and then rushing back when Anders stayed put. “You know, I don’t usually follow directions from dogs,” he joked. He had stopped thinking about how strange it was to interact with the mabari as if it were a person. But he had treated Mr. Wiggums and Ser Pounce-A-Lot as people too. And despite Bones’ rather unimaginative name—Carver’s idea Hawke had explained while her youthful suggestion had been something related to dragons—he wasn’t nearly as boorish as Anders had first assumed. “Lead on,” he relented and walked at a leisurely pace behind.   
  
It didn’t take long before Anders was a little winded, a little sweaty, and little convinced that Bones was just being an arsehole. And it didn’t take long after that for Anders to totally rescind everything mean he had every said and thought—quite a bit of rescinding in fact—about the dog. Bones was lying on the ground by a tree stump when Anders made his way over the bush the dog had simply jumped over. His tail was wagging furiously so that his whole rear end swayed. Anders took a few steps closer and then stopped when he saw what the dog had found. A cat, curled beneath the upturned roots of the stump, its fur a mess and its body tense as it stared at the giant dog with fearful eyes. Bones rolled onto his back, his eyes never leaving the terrified cat.   
  
When the cat saw him it shrank back further and Anders realized that it wasn’t running because one of its paws was broken badly. He dropped to his knees and scooted closely slowly, hands held out so as not to surprise the already unnerved feline. Bones backed away and allowed Anders to touch a healing hand to the animal’s paw while the other lightly brushed against its chin. After a tense moment he heard purring. He scooped the malnourished cat into his arms gently and stood. “Good boy,” he said to the dog for what he realized might have been the first time in their career as acquaintances. Bones seemed to realize it as well and howled gleefully, his tail still wagging and his tongue lolling from his mouth.

 

\--  
  
When Hawke found the path that she had marked for herself to lead her back to the secret cottage her and Anders had found she hesitated. She still wasn’t sure what she was going to say to him. She had been trying to figure it out since she left, twice nearly going back to just let him know the truth before deciding against it. She supposed she could tell him the truth now because it was over and there was no way he was going to show up in a blaze of blue fury at the Inquisitor’s doorstep. But she didn’t know how to phrase it so that his feelings might be spared. And so that she didn’t sound so much like he had when he hadn’t told her about the Chantry plan to keep her safe.   
  
She shrugged to herself, the bag on her back shifting uncomfortably with her Champion’s armor inside, and figured that worse came to worse she could wing it. Anders loved when she winged it. Or at least she thought he must because she did it all the time. She walked carefully so as not to disturb any of the traps she had set for their protection and also, she admitted, because she didn’t want Anders to hear her approaching. She hoped Bones would have enough sense to realize she was being stealthy on purpose and keep her arrival to himself. Guilt made goosebumps on her spine. Everything had wound up taking far longer than she had anticipated. When she got Varric’s letter it had seemed so straightforward. Get in, talk to the Inquisitor, get a drink with her buddy to catch up, get out. But things were never simple and she had been forced—well, not forced but kind of right?—to go along for the ride.   
  
She reached the door and paused, leaning her ear against it to get a feel for what the tone of the house would be. She expected barking and growling, maybe a flurry of blue light and shouts about how unjust it was for her to have left. Instead she only heard some strange almost bird-like noise. Her eyebrow quirked and with a sinking in her gut that bordered between excited and scared she turned the key in the door and thrust it open. Quick like removing a scabbed on bandage, right? Get it over with. Get yelled at and cried over and then bing bang boom get some much needed loving.   
  
Upon first glance things seemed well. The place wasn’t too much of a mess. Well, it was pretty messy but she had expected it to be in shambles considering neither Bones nor Anders were very organized. She didn’t see Anders and that weird noise was still coming from her bedroom it sounded like. She took a step in and let the door slam behind her. Then Bones appeared from the bedroom, all drool and happy skipping jumps. She fell to one knee and embraced him as he leaped on her. His paws pushed her shoulders back against the door as he sniffed her eagerly and covered her face in saliva coated dog kisses. She laughed happily, throwing her arms around his neck and ruffling his ear with her cheek. “I missed you!” She said. She wiped a drop of spit form her eye and looked over as Anders poked his head out of the bedroom. He looked at her like she was a ghost. She pushed Bones off of her and stood, having to keep one hand on the dog’s head to keep him calm enough to stop jumping on her.   
  
Hawke smiled guiltily at Anders, the expression more a grimace than anything else and one the mage was certainly used to seeing. He had called it cute in a terrible way. She hoped it would work in her favor now. His body appeared now from the bedroom though he still hadn’t said anything. He looked gaunt, the hollows in his cheeks back to how they had been when he was barely living in Darktown. She bit her lip. “I missed you too,” she offered by way of greeting. She cupped her hands around Bones’ ears. “More,” she added though she knew it was really no time for jokes—even though it wasn’t really a joke—but she found that she couldn’t help herself. If he didn’t say something soon she would likely begin rambling bad puns and juggling just to calm the anxiety of trying to decipher how mad at her he was.

“Hawke,” he said at last in a breath that spoke volumes of how he felt. Her heart crumpled a little and she strode over to him. He took a few steps toward her, still looking like he couldn’t believe that she was there. Had he really thought she had left him? Didn’t that stupid mage know there was no getting rid of her? She grabbed his hands in hers and kissed their tops. He collapsed into her then, holding her so tightly to him that she could feel the press of his bones. Apparently he hadn’t been bathing very often either. “Hawke,” he said again, louder and with tears in his voice. “I didn’t think you were coming back. I thought you hated me.” She ran her hands along his arms and brought them to his face, pulling it from her neck so she could look into his eyes.  
  
“Anders,” she said as she stared into him with all the certainty she could muster into a gaze. “I love you. Why would you think anything else?” There was a flicker of something on Anders’ face and Hawke realized too late that she might have asked a stupid question.  
  
“Well, you just left. Without saying anything.” His tone suddenly tense and angry. But he didn’t pull back from her touch which was a good sign. “I woke up and you were gone.”  
  
“I had to take care of something.”  
  
“Why wouldn’t you tell us? Bring us?” The us confused her until she realized that he was taking about Bones. Then it confused her even more. Anders and Bones got along with a cold civility at best and outright rivalry at worse. Had her disappearance banded them together in a united front against her? How bizarre.   
  
“I wanted to protect you.” She winced the second she said it. Precisely what she hadn’t wanted to say. Well, it was out now and there was no stopping the rest of the argument that was about to unfold. “You should understand that.” He looked at her hard for a moment, all hurt and happy and mixed up. She wanted to kiss him but he pulled back and crossed his arms over his chest. There were tears in his eyes still and she could see them twinkling in the firelight as he glanced away. His mouth set, his lower lip jutting slightly. Her possessed, ex-Warden, crazy talented mage was pouting. Maker did she love this man. “Anders,” she cooed, slipping her nimble fingers around his wrist. “I missed you. Welcome me home.” She went onto tip toes and kissed beneath his ear. She felt him tremble, his resolve weak and already crumbling. “Welcome me home, Anders,” she repeated huskily.   
  
“I’m mad at you. We said no more lies but clearly you just meant that in regards to me.”   
  
“Oh, Anders, come on!” She exclaimed, falling back on her heels. “I’m back. I’m fine. You’re fine. Bones is fine… a little fatter but fine. And—“ She frowned and tilted her head to look around his body into the bedroom. “What is that noise?  
  
“Cats,” Anders answered defiantly. Hawke’s eyebrow rose.  
  
“Cats. As in plural. As in more than one cat?”  
  
“Yes. Lady Whiskerly had kittens.”  
  
“Who’s Lady Whiskerly?” Hawke was lost and Anders was still pouting. And that noise was as persistent as ever. How many cats were in that room? One for every day she was gone maybe. She couldn’t live in a house overrun by cats. They were so mean!  
  
“My cat.” She frowned. He was being difficult. Not that she didn’t deserve difficult. Not that she didn’t like difficult. Not that she wasn’t a little turned on by difficult. She sidestepped Anders and walked into the bedroom. Her nose crinkled. Had Anders been letting all the cats and even Bones sleep in here? On the floor sat one of the drawers from their dresser stuffed with a blanket and with a large grey cat and three, four, five little ones of various colors within. Six cats, Hawke thought. Six cats?! “I’m keeping them.” She looked over her shoulder and saw him in the doorway with his arms still cross and his pout still in place. She sighed and sat down on the bed with her shoulders slumped.

“Yeah, I mean, why not? You deserve them. I was a dick to leave like that. I’m sorry.” She looked up and watched as her lover deflated a little. Who would have guessed that an apology was the best way to go on this. Maybe she should try it more often. He came and sat down on the bed next to her.  
  
“I was scared, Hawke. I didn’t know what had happened. I really thought…” He voice cracked and he took a moment to compose himself. “I really thought that you hated me.” She gripped his thigh with one hand and used to the other to turn his face towards her.   
  
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. She watched subtle relief pool in his eyes. She kissed one of his jutting cheekbones. “I’m sorry.” She kissed his forehead. “I’m sorry.” She kissed his nose. “I’m—“ He cut her off, grabbing her face and kissing her fiercely. Her hand worked its way in to his hair. She tugged on it lightly and was happily rewarded with a moan in her mouth. Swiveling easily she got herself on his lap, her legs holding his boney hips.   
  
“Hawke,” he rumbled when they broke for air. He looked at her as if marveling over her very presence. “Hawke, Oh Maker.” He buried his face in her neck, kissing as his hands undid her clothes. She stripped him just as efficiently.   
  
“Welcome me home, Anders,” she said again and this time he listened to her gentle command. He fell back on the bed beneath her, shifting and writhing until he had her sitting on his face. They stayed like that for awhile.  
  
\--  
  
In the morning when she woke, sweaty and smelly and happy beyond words she found Anders already awake. She had her head on his chest and he was running his fingers along her arm and through her hair. She blinked up at him, groggy from their night and prepared to roll over get sleep a little more.   
  
“You’re here,” he said faintly.   
  
“I told you. I’m not going anywhere.” He smiled and leaned down to brush a kiss over her forehead. In the background she could hear the kittens beginning to awaken, mewling over and over. She closed her eyes, smiling despite it all. She wasn’t going anywhere.

 

“And that one’s Mister Mouser. And that’s Lord Tiny-Claws. Can't forget Grand Enchanter Meow.”  
  
“Can’t I name one?”  
  
“Well, I already named them all.”  
  
“But they’re babies. They won’t know if we switched one.”  
  
“That’s horrible.”  
  
“Anders, please!”  
  
“…fine.”  
  
“I want this one to be called Mega Death Dragon Cat… the third!”  
  
“No that’s not happening. That’s the worst name I’ve ever heard. This is a noble animal that deserves a noble name.”  
  
“You’ve been calling him Ser Poopsie.”  
  
“Yes. He has a title, Hawke. That’s what makes him a noble.”  
  
“What about Madame De Feline? Can I change her name?”  
  
“To what?”  
  
“Mega Death Dragon Cat the Third.”  
  
“Let’s… discuss this later.”


End file.
